


Cloaked In Darkness

by coplins, YouCantKeepMeDown



Series: Princes, Pirates, and Vampires [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Confessions, Consent Issues, Gen, Honesty, King Dean Winchester, Light Angst, Prince Michael (Supernatural), discussions of consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 12:41:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14285142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coplins/pseuds/coplins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouCantKeepMeDown/pseuds/YouCantKeepMeDown
Summary: Dean fucked up. He fucked up big time. His guilty conscience and shame won't let him sleep. He thinks he's not cut out to be a king and handle all this diplomacy bullshit that comes with it. One misstep and he could start a war or put people's lives at stake. Unlike crown prince Michael who has it all put together. He worries about what this means for the future between their nations, the future of Adam. It's eating at him. How the hell will he ever be able to look Michael in the eyes ever again without dying from mortification?Turns out, he's not the only one who can't sleep after what happened today.





	Cloaked In Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Since the last thing I wrote in [YouCantKeepMeDown](http://archiveofourown.org/users/YouCantKeepMeDown)'s [fantasy AU](https://archiveofourown.org/series/927504) was in Dean's POV several people wasn't quite sure why Michael acted like he did in the situation. Instead of answering that individually I wrote an answer. It's still from Dean's POV but I think you'll be able to see Michael's reasoning anyway, despite him being a lot more reserved than Dean. :) /Coplins

Dean’s leaning against a merlon on the battlements around the highest point of the castle. Guards are small dots patrolling the wall walks and surrounding area. Above him, an angel flies in wide circles around the castle and village. Angels don’t see well in the dark, but the surrounding area is cleared for defensibility and since humans too have shit for night vision the angel patrolling would be able to see torches at a much further distance and be able to report approaching lights that go out suspiciously when nearing. A glance upward at the dark silhouette briefly backlit by the moon reveals that it’s Neda.

Great. Of course it had to be one of the witnesses to his humiliating blunder earlier. Seriously. He’d practically been jerking the guy off, if Adam’s to be believed. (Okay, that might have been an exaggeration on Adam’s behalf, but how can Dean know that for sure?) No wonder Lucifer had found it so funny. But the shithead had encouraged him! If Lucifer had looked outraged or pissed off he would have backed off straight away. But no. ‘No, you’re not hurting him.’ _No shit._

Dean buries his hands in his hair and pulls, bending his neck with eyes squeezed shut. The night air is chilly. He can hear the big white sheet they tied to the spire for the night-fliers benefit flap in the occasional gust of biting wind. Dean’s not a big fan of heights. Not even here on the castle.

He hears the flutter of an angel landing beside him but doesn’t open his eyes. Maybe it’s an assassin come to kill him for the affront against their people. (Working on their own behalf. He doesn’t think the royal family would do something like that.) Right now dying doesn’t seem so bad. At least, it’d spare him the mortification of having to ever face― 

“Can’t sleep?”

 _Michael._

Dean opens his eyes and turns his head to face the guy he sexually molested. _Holy hell, this is embarrassing._ “It’s a beautiful night,” he answers vaguely. It is. But lying in bed sleeping would be even more beautiful instead of standing here being beset by a guilty conscience.

Michael nods and looks up at the night sky―a giant velvet copy of his wings―hands behind his back hidden by his folded wings. He remains standing in silence. If it wasn’t for the vast abyss of guilt and shame Dean’s wallowing in it would have been companionable. A minute ticks by without them speaking.

Dean can’t take it anymore. “Look, man… I didn’t know.” Michael looks at him when he speaks up. “If I’d known I’d never done it, you get that, right? You knocked down a small tree without as much as a flinch before. I thought you barely could feel with your wings.”

“That’s the outer wings,” Michael tells him with a soft voice. There’s no accusation in his expression.

“Yeah, well, I know that _now_. And it’s not like I didn’t try to read up on you guys. But we’ve got like, what? 3 or 4 books that include Caelum customs and the bits about your wings in them can be summed up as ‘Wings. They’ve got them.’ It isn’t exactly enough to navigate by.”

The feathers on Michael’s wings puff up before slowly smoothing down again. There’s a hint of a smile on his lips and an amused twinkle in his eyes.

Dean sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Adam was so angry steam was practically coming through his ears. He loves you. He really loves you. And he was jealous.”

“So I noticed,” Michael remarks with a little smirk quirking the corner of his mouth.

Dean snorts in amusement and shakes his head at the memory of Adam’s restrained lecturing. “He said, ‘Dean, you’re my brother and I love you. But know that if it ever happens again, I’ll love you just as much when you’re a eunuch.’”

Michael’s wings jump, extending slightly upward, feather puffing up again. His lips twitch like he’s fighting a smile and not quite managing to contain it.

Dean grins at him mirthlessly. “Yeah, no, you can laugh. It’s funny. I personally think he was overreacting on the jealousy since I had no idea what I was doing. I almost fucked up even worse by _almost_ blurting ‘Oh, so that’s why he’―” Dean cuts himself off when Michael averts his gaze. He’d almost blurted out how close Michael had come, putting them chest to chest exhales away from kissing. If Adam had found _that_ out it would have been even worse. No, better if Dean took the sole blame in this. “But I didn’t say it. I get it, though. His jealousy. At first, I thought about if I’d be that jealous if our roles had been reversed and Adam was fondling my husband. Sure, I’d be jealous, but not like that because it’d be too bloody funny. But he and me… our situation is not the same.” Dean turns serious again and Michael looks back at him with open interest. He’s beautiful like this - relaxed, wind ruffling his hair in a disarray, face soft and open. Dean thinks he’s talking to _Michael_ for the first time, not the Crown Prince Michael. No, now he’s facing the man Adam loves so fiercely. 

Dean turns around and leans his back against the battlement and goes on. “Adam… he’s smart. He does well fighting on the field, he can lead, think strategically, is good at diplomacy and is very well read. He might be the most fit of us to be a monarch. Though dad treated him like his only value lay as a bartering piece. Adam’s love of books was scoffed at. He had to train as rigorously as us at fighting but was withheld from important positions during the war because dad wanted him safe. He was like…” Dean clicks his tongue in search of words. “Like this kickass, wickedly sharp sword that was kept on a shelf to look pretty while rusty blades were used for actual fighting, metaphorically. He always stood in our shadow and had to fight three times as hard to get acknowledgement as I did. Then he was foisted off on you and abandoned to seal the peace like he was expendable. He’s fucking not, okay? But he got lucky. You did something right by him and he found happiness with you. Of course he’s gonna be protective of that happiness in a way that I wouldn’t be.”

“I love your little brother dearly, Dean. I consider myself the one who got lucky. I wasn’t happy about having to go into a blind union either. But Adam is a piece of wildfire that ignited something vast both in my heart as well as Lucifer’s.” Michael looks and sounds earnest enough.

“Yeah… Look, I really want the alliance between our two nations to work out. Not just because we’re facing a common enemy, but because I want Adam to be happy. What I did today was an attempt to get more up-close and personal, more familiar to you. Show my friendly intentions.”

Michael huffs in amusement, feathers puffing again. “Mission accomplished.” For a moment there’s a boyish, mischievous twinkle in his eyes and smile. Yet another side Dean’s never seen in the crown prince.

Dean smiles but averts his face, wondering if the darkness hides his blush of shame. “Yeah, no shit. What I’m trying to say is, I’m not a diplomat. I try my best, but I was raised to think like a general. Dad gave me two objectives. Keep my brothers and the country safe. That’s it. I’m not fit to be a king. I can barely keep up with our own customs, let alone those of other countries. I talk like a footman when I don’t watch my tongue, and swear more than Sam’s pirates put together. My final thought before making most decisions is ‘Fuck it!’ If nobody holds me back I lead from the front. I think too much. I’m a man of action. And with you guys… I try. But we’ve barely put down our weapons.” He turns his head to look at Michael again. “I don’t know how paranoid I have to be. I like you, man. The better I get to know you lot, the better I like you. And when we strategize together like we did today, I’m torn about how much to reveal about our defence. I’m walking on eggshells because if I fuck up you’ll have the life of someone I love more than my own life in your hands. And with how Sam’s trying to pretend he’s not making moon eyes at Gabriel, soon you’ll have both my brothers to play against me. All I have is a ball of worry in my stomach that I’ll fuck up. Like today. Or when I asked Bartholomew if his wings were those of a vulture or an eagle. I swear with how offended he was, I was sure war was about to restart on the spot. I fucked up, and I’ll do it again. And I’m sorry.”

Michael crosses his arms and leans them on the merlon beside Dean. His wings hang relaxed behind him. “I disagree. From what I’m seeing you’re a good king. Your people like you and you keep track of details many forget. As for diplomacy, you’ve done things to accommodate us I’ve rarely seen when I’ve done other state visits. Take the white cloth you’ve had mounted on every spire, the pyres you keep lit on the highest points surrounding the village, the big circles of white gravel to signify safe landing spots. All to make sure somebody flying in the dark wouldn’t hurt themselves. Adam said he hadn’t tipped you off or asked you to do any of that. These things don’t pass me by unnoticed and that counts as diplomacy too.”

“Yeah, but those are all _actions._ Action is easy. I just thought about what I’d need if I was a bird, and― _Fuck_.” There he goes again, insulting an angel by comparing them to birds aloud. “Shit, I’m sorry. This is what I mean. Words are hard. I don’t mean to offend. But during the war, that’s what we classified you by. Fliers had been spotted? I’d go ‘What kind of bird?’ to know what defense to put in. Tern or peregrine? Hide or lay low to the ground. Vulture or eagle? Fire arrows and lances. Sparrows and starlings? Rope bolas and gravel propelled by catapults. And the moment I realised we had the leviathans making a move on the both of us my mind started conjuring defenses to protect the weaknesses we’ve discovered in you. Then it all circles back to the need to cement our alliance as permanent or I’ll pay hell for helping you counter our tactics. And, _bam_ , there’s my well-intent groping biting me in the ass again,” Dean says gesturing with his hands in front of him while he talks, letting out his frustration. By being so honest he might be stabbing himself in the foot with his own sword. But his guilty conscience is gnawing on him. To be honest, it’s not really that he’d been pawing Adam’s husband that’s eating on him. It’s more that he’d done it without consent and enjoyed it quite a lot. 

Michael’s wings extend up and out. He stretches them to their full length then folds them back one pair at the time, scrutinizing Dean with a sharp and thoughtful gaze. Dean wonders if he made a mistake reminding him of the horrors they’d visited upon each other during the war. But then Michael takes a deep breath and looks away. “You’re not the only one who struggles with diplomacy, Dean. I do too. It’s why I couldn’t sleep after Adam and Lucifer fell asleep.” He pauses and looks up when Neda does another fly-over even if she’s too far up to be able to overhear. “Today, I was in pain. I pretended I wasn’t but some of those thorns were stuck in places that are really sensitive that I knew I’d need help to remove.”

“Hey, if you’re in pain, at least you know you’ve done right by people. Pleasure is the selfish sensation,” Dean consoles. John had been adamant that Dean understands that ruling came with sacrifices. And as long as Sam and Adam are happy, Dean will be too, even if he one day will have to take a fitting spouse and act a stud to make sure the kingdom would last in safety after he’s gone. Chances are he wouldn’t hit the jackpot like Adam, especially not for as long as he’s mooning over a vampire.

Michael gives him an odd, slightly concerned look. “Mh,” he answers noncommittally. “Maybe so. But what I wanted to say was, I wasn’t prepared when you grabbed my wing. I too, want this alliance to work. So while I was still trying to decide how to act my brother encouraged you to mess with me, and I feared you’d feel humiliated if I told you the truth then and there. I didn’t want you to lose face. Had we been in private I would have stopped you right away. But we weren’t.”

“Um, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m glad you didn’t. I definitely would have felt humiliated and would either have gone on the defense or been so mortified I’d have trouble focusing on the task at hand. And by that, I mean thinking about what we had to do about the leviathan rumour. I’m not gonna lie, I can be a kinky sonnova bitch, but feeling up the unwilling is not my bag. That’s not the kind of man I am or want to be. Heh. No wonder you couldn’t sleep. Lying there thinking about being molested for the sake of politics. Just thinking about what I did to you makes me nauseous.”

Michael huffs in amusement and looks down at the stone under his arms. The huff isn’t followed by a feather-puff so Dean thinks that means it’s humourless amusement. “That’s… that’s not quite how it is. For a warrior, you have a very gentle touch. Those burrs, it feels like someone pulling at body-hair with every little move. And some of the thorns had snagged right in the skin. You took them out so carefully it barely hurt. I only lost a single feather, which is quite a feat. You’re good with your hands and I didn’t _not_ enjoy it. I couldn’t sleep because it felt like I’d cheated on Adam and my conscience can’t decide whether to tell him this or not.”

_Oh._

“Oh.”

“Precisely. I knew what I was doing, stepping in close like I did. My intention was to get back at Lucifer for the teasing, but once we were placed like that I was enjoying myself far more than I should and I think you were too.” Michael lifts an emploring eyebrow and Dean swallows audibly before nodding in shameful confirmation. “Lucifer didn’t tell Adam that bit, and neither did you. So should I?”

Dean thinks for a bit before shaking his head. “No. Not if you love him. That would hurt him needlessly, and for what? It was a prolonged, stupid situation that I created by my ignorance. None of us would have done something like that otherwise, right?” Michael shakes his head in agreement. “Then don’t. Whatever we felt right then, we won’t repeat the mistake and I have no interest in coming between Adam and you in any way.”

Michael’s wings relax. He gives Dean a small smile. “Then I won’t.”

“But in the future, maybe you can give me some sign that I mucked up, that isn’t obvious but lets me know to back off? Like, wave a feather or something?”

“Like this?” Michael makes a quick, clipping motion with his alulas of the outer wings. “It doesn’t really mean anything. Another angel would just think I was slightly annoyed.”

“Yeah, that’s great.” Relieved, Dean grins at him, getting a big smile back. “Oh! I, uh,” he digs into one of the pouches by his belt and takes up a piece of cloth that he carefully unwraps to take out the feather Michael lost when Dean groomed him. “I saved it. Here, you can have it back. I don’t know if you can re-attach these things, but I hardly deserve to keep it under the circumstances.”

“You kept it?” Michael asks in surprise when Dean holds it out to him.

“Yeah, sure. It’s softer than a kitten and gorgeous. Plus, the three golden flecks on it,” one on the tip and one on each side in a triangle formation, “made me think of me and my brothers. Spread out but still part of a whole, you know?”

Michael’s little smile is soft and happy-looking when he looks down on the feather―no larger than Dean’s little finger―offered to him. He looks up. “Keep it. As a token of friendship and hope for a lasting alliance.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Just don’t stick it in your hair or it’ll set Adam off again.”

It feels like a huge stone has been lifted from Dean’s chest. “Thanks. I won’t.” He carefully wraps the prize into the cloth and puts it back into his pouch, then turns to lean on the battlement the same way Michael is, looking out over the village beyond the castle. “I’m glad we had this talk. I wouldn’t have been able to look you in the eyes for days otherwise.”

“Same here. I felt mortified as soon as I knew you knew.”

Dean chuckles and shakes his head. The silence that descends after that _is_ companionable, and lasts for minutes while both of them mull over the conversation. Then Dean speaks. “You know, you’re really chill when you forget to shove that stick up your ass.”

Michael sucks in a wide-eyed, scandalized breath and shoves Dean with his huge outer wing, sending him sprawling on the wall walk. Dean’s laughing and Michael comes to loom above him, wings half-spread and threatening. “Filthy mudmonkey. You’re incorrigible,” he insults. But he’s grinning and his eyes have this playful gleam, plus he isn’t clipping with his alulas.

Dean sits up with a shiteating grin. “Yep. That sounds like me, alright,” he agrees with a cheeky wink.

Michael chuckles. “Go to bed, Dean. We both need sleep and we have lots of work tomorrow. Good night.” With that he jumps up and takes to the air, wind from his wingstrokes ruffling Dean’s hair.

Dean’s sure Michael will be back to being cordial and correct tomorrow. This moment of honesty and openness cloaked in darkness will remain cloaked in darkness. It happened but won’t be mentioned. However, it does bode well for a bright future...

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment! It makes my day! <3 ^^  
> /Coplins


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